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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276129">Interesting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontrollthedice/pseuds/dontrollthedice'>dontrollthedice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Jacket sharing, M/M, Pre-Slash, based on that one dream tweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:42:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontrollthedice/pseuds/dontrollthedice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before George could shoot back a retort, Wilbur shrugged off his jacket and moved to wrap it around George's shoulders.</p><p>Huh. It was warmer than he expected it to be. And now his face was warmer than he expected it to be.</p><p>Wilbur stepped back to his original position and offered him a smile. "You look like you need it more than I do."</p><p>His heart was fluttering. Why was it fluttering?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>563</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Interesting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>to the 2.5 georgebur stans out there,,,, ily guys</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was the middle of summer, why was it so fucking cold?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George brought his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying not to shiver. The waves of the ocean crashed in the distance. Dream and Wilbur stood somewhere to the left of him, their voices drifting with the sound around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today had been amazing. Accompanying Dream and Wilbur to their Pizza Hut date wasn't how he thought he'd be spending a Monday evening, but George had no regrets, especially after everything that had happened. He got free pizza (that he had tried to pay for but neither Dream nor Wilbur were willing to let him pay and had ganged up on him), a nice talk throughout the entire day (thankfully nothing too thought-provoking, George didn’t think he’d be prepared for that), and above all, the opportunity to finally meet his best friend after so many years of knowing each other (even if the idiot had initially shown up wearing a paper plate with a smiley face drawn on the back). If he pinched himself right now, would he wake up back to a more mundane world? Back to before he met Dream in person? Back to before he met Wilbur?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of Wilbur, this entire day of interaction had been… interesting, to say the least. While they had been aware of each other's existence, George couldn't recall having a single extended conversation with him before today. What a shame. He had a nice voice—musician, right? He motioned with his hands while speaking, though not so much that he accidentally hit anything. He had to pause at times to swipe the hair out of his eyes. It was mundane by all means, but George couldn’t stop thinking about it. Everything about him was unendingly interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George, you look miserable," came Dream's voice followed by a soft chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George leveled an unamused look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted, maybe wearing a short-sleeved shirt to a beach in the evening was his own fault. Both Wilbur and Dream had the foresight to bring jackets themselves. George's decision of taking one look at the temperature and throwing on the fastest outfit he could wasn't his brightest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you cold, George?" Wilbur asked, his head tilted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact he was one degree close to shivering and had goosebumps on his skin, George shook his head. But maybe neither of the two would—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream rolled his eyes. "You're such a liar."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before George could shoot back a retort, Wilbur shrugged off his jacket and moved to wrap it around George's shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huh. It was warmer than he expected it to be. And now his face was warmer than he expected it to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur stepped back to his original position and offered him a smile. "You look like you need it more than I do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart was fluttering. Why was it fluttering?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," George said quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur nodded one last time before turning away towards the ocean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Dream hadn't. George only realized that after nestling himself into the warmth and bringing the jacket closer to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop pog champing,</span>
  </em>
  <span> George mouthed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream had the sense to close his mouth, but that seemed to be the last sense he had left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream was one of the most feral people he had ever met, even for a Florida man. George didn't trust the smirk on his face or the way his eyes shined mischievously. A mischievous Dream meant trouble; George had learned that plenty of times over the years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now his raised, smug eyebrows (could eyebrows be smug? Fuck it, they could) were just starting to piss George off. Why were they friends again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sent him a glare that he hoped conveyed his message: </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck off.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream raised his palms defensively. He turned away, but not before mouthing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>We're talking about this later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. That was fine by him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George buried himself deeper into the jacket with a content sigh. Even though it had lost part of its initial warmth, it was still soft, comforting, </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn't want to think too deeply into that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shut his eyes and listened to the ocean sing.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>twitter is freaking out as i write this i can Not keep up with these block men wtf</p></blockquote></div></div>
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